


A Time and Place

by snarkyscorp



Category: Free!
Genre: Dirty Talk, In Public, M/M, Public Hand Jobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-03
Packaged: 2018-03-05 02:34:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3102287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarkyscorp/pseuds/snarkyscorp
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that Makoto doesn't like when Sousuke gets intimate in that way; it's just, there's a time and place for those things and sitting in a movie theater isn't one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Time and Place

**Author's Note:**

> Written for #sm2k15 / #soumako2k15ever on tumblr for day 1's prompt of "winter clothes". Funny how little those clothes stay on. >.>

Bundled in a thick scarf, hand-knit hat, padded mittens, and winter coat, Makoto waits outside the movie theater anxiously. It's not like this is his first date with Sousuke, but it may as well be. Every single time they go out together, Makoto's palms get sweaty and his ears get hot; in other words, every time is like the first time. Though he wishes he could get comfortable around his boyfriend, that's difficult when Sousuke makes his stomach drop at just the thought of holding his hand or kissing his cheek, let alone what it does when Makoto thinks about kissing him  elsewhere .

 

Shifting from foot to foot, Makoto tries to keep himself warm, blowing into his mittens, rubbing his hands together, tugging down his hat. Nothing works. Winter in Tokyo is unforgiving, but he'd gladly brave the storms for just the chance to be alone with Sousuke.

 

Their schedules these days are just so busy; it's difficult to find time to be alone between studying, part-time work, and internships. But somehow, they've managed.

 

"Been waiting long?"

 

Makoto jumps. Literally, he lifts an inch off his feet at the sound of a low voice near his ear and almost yelps.

 

"Oi, Sousuke," he grumbles, trying to brush his fear off as nothing. "I told you not to sneak up on me."

 

"What sneaking up? I've been standing here for a full minute." The grin on Sousuke's face suggests otherwise, but before Makoto can argue the point, Sousuke takes his hand to give it a squeeze, and all his malice is forgotten. "Let's get you warmed up, Tachibana."

 

As they enter the old theater, Makoto can't help but wonder when Sousuke will call him  Makoto . It's been three months like this. Three months of secret dates, secret phone calls and texts, and of Sousuke calling him  Tachibana even when Makoto has invited further intimacy more than once. He's starting to feel weird calling Sousuke  Sousuke .

 

Sousuke buys the popcorn and a drink, while Makoto purchases two tickets. It's a fair trade, and though Makoto would gladly pay for all of it, it's good to split things between them so Sousuke doesn't feel like Makoto's taking advantage of him. Neither of them have much in the way of income these days; a movie is a nice treat.

 

"Let's sit up high today," Sousuke offers, leading the way to the very back of the theater, up the stairs to the top, and choosing a place dead center. Usually, the theaters are too crowded for such a perfect view, but today, only a few moviegoers litter the theater with them.

 

Once they're settled, Makoto tugs off his hat, scarf, and mittens, setting them in the seat beside him. Movie previews roll across the screen as he begins to unbutton his coat.

 

Suddenly, there's warm breath against his ear and an even warmer grip on his thigh.

 

"You smell good tonight, you know," Sousuke murmurs. It chills Makoto to the point of goosebumps. "New shampoo?"

 

"E-eh, no, I don't...I don't think so," Makoto stutters, fumbling with the buttons on his coat. His skin prickles where Sousuke's breath washes over him.

 

"Mm. Then it's just been too long and I forgot how good you smell."

 

" Sousuke ."

 

At the reprimand, Sousuke pulls away and sits back in his seat, tugging his own scarf off and pulling his suede gloves off finger by finger before plucking the entire thing free. Makoto can see him settling in his seat, and so he thinks that's the end of that.

 

It's not that Makoto doesn't like when Sousuke gets intimate in that way; it's just, there's a time and place for those things and sitting in a movie theater isn't one of them.

 

The previews go by, movies Makoto has no interest in seeing. He makes a few offhand comments after each to get Sousuke's opinion, which is usually a disinterested grunt of approval or disapproval. Makoto has had to learn a whole new language to read his boyfriend; he'd thought Haru's silences were difficult to understand but Sousuke's were another thing entirely. Still, it was a challenge Makoto was more than happy to accomplish when it meant getting to know parts of Sousuke that no one else knew about, not even Rin.

 

It gave Makoto a sense of pride, and if he was honest, he liked to think about it sometimes, to hoard his knowledge of Sousuke to himself in the privacy of his heart under lock and key.

 

After the previews, the theater darkens fully and the opening scenes of the adventure movie flicker across the screen. Makoto, as usual, gets so wrapped up in the movie that he doesn't notice what Sousuke is doing until he feels an arm around his shoulder. He smiles, settling into the warmth of it. Sousuke makes a very good boyfriend when he wants to; he even choose movies that aren't scary so Makoto can enjoy them too, even though Sousuke likes the horror genre a lot.

 

It's good to compromise, that's what Makoto is thinking as he smiles at the screen and the movie progresses.

 

It's about thirty minutes in when Sousuke starts kissing his ear. At first, Makoto laughs quietly and nudges him off. Then, Sousuke goes for his neck and he elbows him in his stomach. Then, Sousuke  bites his neck and Makoto goes as limp as a cat getting its scruff pulled.

 

"S-ousuke," he manages, softer than a whisper.

 

Sousuke knows how that sort of thing gets to him, how little Makoto can do to stop him when he nips like that. All the blood just automatically starts rushing, like Sousuke pushed the arousal button and there's no stopping the flow now.

 

"I want to suck your cock," Sousuke growls. The words are quietly spoken against Makoto's ear, but to Makoto, they may as well be shouts. His eyes scan the theater audience below and to each side to see if anyone heard. "I want to get on my knees right here in the middle of this theater and put my mouth on your big, thick cock. I want to suck you in, right down into my throat, and see how long I can hold you there until you come or I choke."

 

Makoto slumps a little in his seat. The words may as well be bites with what they do to him. Swallowing, he shifts a little uncomfortably.

 

"Sousuke, don't--"

 

"It's okay," Sousuke coos, licking his tongue along the gentle marks he's left on Makoto's skin. "I'm not going to suck you off." Makoto breathes a sigh of relief, but then Sousuke's hand is on the fly of his pants, unzipping him, adding, "I'm going to jerk you off instead, because I want to kiss you when you come," as slick fingers find Makoto's cock in his pants and pull it out.

 

Both of Makoto's hands jump to Sousuke's, pushing and pulling. "Sousuke!" he whines, his voice near a hiss. A quick scan reveals an empty packet of lubrication tossed to the floor. While the movie had been playing, Sousuke must have opened it and gotten his hand wet. It both frightens and turns Makoto on just how devious his boyfriend can be when he isn't looking, the lengths he'll go just to get a rise out of him.

 

And he is sure getting more than a rise out of Makoto right now. Makoto's cock is already beginning to harden. Although he's still too anxious about being discovered to relax enough to get a full erection just yet.

 

"Not here," Makoto pants, slumping further in his seat. He can't even see the movie anymore through the haze of arousal covering his eyes. "Sousuke, we're in public."

 

"I know." Sousuke nips at Makoto's ear again. "I want everyone to see you swell in my hand, and I want them to hear you say my name and beg me for more."

 

Makoto shudders. Even though he wasn't fully hard to start with, his cock is twitching in response to everything Sousuke says. It's hard not to imagine being stared at, being watched, as Sousuke touches him. As sickening as that should be, it sort of gets Sousuke off too.

 

"Ah, there we go," Sousuke says. "You're really getting worked up now."

 

"I-I'm not…!"

 

"Your cock is swelling in my fist. Does that mean you like the thought of me parading you around so everyone can have a look? Or do you like being mine so much that you don't mind everyone else getting a glimpse of what I do to you?"

 

Now Makoto is fully hard. It didn't take much, and that's the most embarrassing thing; he really is enjoying this to some degree.

 

"What if I just tied you to this chair and let everyone in the theater watch as I milk you dry, huh?" Sousuke chuckles, and the sound and feel of it raise chills on Makoto's skin all over again. "Let them see just how much come pours out of you when I get my hands on you."

 

Beyond himself, Makoto grips the handrests on the chair. In his boots, his toes curl tightly, thick socks rubbing against his feet. He shifts, knees spreading, as he sinks another inch lower and lets his eyes begin to fall shut, head back against the seat. Gaze dropping to Sousuke's hand on his cock, Makoto bites his lip to keep back a moan.

 

"Look at you. Already squirming. Already hard for me. I love when you get like this. When you have to bite yourself to keep quiet." Sousuke's lips move against Makoto's ear. "I bet you wish we were back at your place, so you could let out a moan or two, don't you? So you can be loud. Scream my name when I slide a finger inside your tight hole."

 

Makoto nearly chokes on a gasp of air. "Sousuke, you can't---you can't do that here," he argues, even though the mental images are already implanted: fingers stretching him and then Sousuke sitting back as Makoto rides him, taking his cock as deep as it'll go, nearly splitting him apart, hitting places nothing else can. 

 

He makes the mistake of looking down in time to see Sousuke rub the pad of his thumb over the head of his cock, drawing lube and pre-come down under the red crown, all the way to his balls. By the time Sousuke takes those in hand and begins to massage, Makoto has sunk so far down in the seat that his knees bump into the chair in front of him.

 

"Easy," Sousuke purrs. "You don't want anyone to see you like this, do you? Or maybe you really would like that. Maybe I should let everyone watch me finger you wide open. Maybe I'll let them watch you climb into my lap and ride me, too. And when I'm done, and I come inside you, I'll let them watch as I suck the come out of your gaped wet hole."

 

Makoto teeters on the edge of orgasm. His eyes slide shut and his lips open wide, lungs burning as he tries to control his breath and keep himself still. His hips rise and fall of their own accord when Sousuke gets back to work jerking him, and he hangs on that precipice for so long that he feels weightless. He's in another stratosphere when Sousuke puts his hands on him, but it's not just the touch or the dirty words that send him careening over to the other side: it's what Sousuke calls him, casually, as he pulls the foreskin down and up over the head of his cock.

 

"Come on," Sousuke encourages. "Come on,  Makoto . Come for me."

 

It's his name.  His name , whispered in undertones that sing of affection deeper than any other words would indicate. Makoto can't help the pitched whimper he lets out as he slips off the ledge and comes. He squints, trying to memorize the look on Sousuke's face, but then there's a mouth on his own, suction against his tongue, and Makoto is fighting a losing battle to even know what year it is or where they are. All that matters is Sousuke and his touch and the feel of floating.

 

When he comes down from the high of it, some of the movie's dialogue slides in one ear and out the other. He hears it, distantly, like the movie is leagues away. And when he opens his eyes again, he looks first at Sousuke, at the gorgeous flush on his lover's face and the way his eyes glitter in the darkness.

 

"You're so fucking hot," Sousuke says. "Look at this mess you made."

 

Sousuke lifts his hand, spreads the webbing of his fingers to allow Makoto to see the globs of sticky white come he'd left. It's embarrassing on a level that Makoto can barely tolerate, worse when Sousuke sucks a finger in to clean himself off, then another, then to lick at his palm.

 

"S-stop it," Makoto groans.

 

"You taste sweet," Sousuke says, ignoring his complaints. "I can't wait to put my mouth on you when we get back to my place. Can't wait to come inside you and slurp it out when I'm done."

 

It's another hour before the movie ends. An hour of pure torture sitting there in sticky underwear, glancing aside at Sousuke to see the amused, satisfied grin on his face. An hour of wondering how he could ever compete. And then, finally, when they're back at Sousuke's place and truly alone, Makoto bites his way into Sousuke's mouth and pushes him against a wall.

 

"Say it again," he demands, a whine in his voice like a dog that needs another pet. "Say my name."

 

Sousuke chuckles. "Tachibana?"

 

Makoto bites him hard. " Please ."

 

" Ma-ko-to ," Sousuke breathes.

  
He peppers each syllable with affection, and as Makoto greedily hauls Sousuke to the bedroom, he realizes there's a time and a place for his name, too, and Sousuke just likes saving it for the moments when it will leave the best impression.


End file.
